


amor somnus

by PorcelainStorm



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Doctor Strange (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 23:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20629628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainStorm/pseuds/PorcelainStorm
Summary: Writing challenge for tumblr.Reader is under a curse. Stephen freaks out. Feelings are felt.Enjoy!(More in A/N)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally published this on tumblr (defnotashieldagent) for softhairbarnes' "I love you 3000" challenge. The theme of the challenge was love, and my prompt was the following quote from Star Wars:
> 
> "I love you."
> 
> "I know."
> 
> I decided to do Stephen because he just doesn't get enough love in the fanfic community. I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

The incubus had taken more out of you than you would have liked to admit.

It’d been throwing hexes and curses at you and your fellow sorcerer, Stephen Strange, as quickly as it could conjure them. He was dragging out the battle in Hell’s Kitchen far longer than you’d predicted.

“What is this guy’s problem?” you grunted, ducking behind a shield Stephen had thrown over the two of you.

“He’s probably confused,” the sorcerer offered, and you sighed, conjuring another round of spells that barraged back and forth until you were able to edge in and try something new.

Your last spell had been the winner to take it down, but not before it threw a half-hearted hex in Stephen’s direction. It was pure instinct when you shoved Stephen aside.

Stepping in its path, you barely felt a tickle as the purple mass of energy dissipated on contact with your skin. Snorting, you joined Stephen while he rounded on the near unconscious demon and bound him.

“That was good luck in guessing its weakness,” he murmured, hefting the large monster onto its feet and stepping through the portal you’d summoned to Kamar-Taj.

_“In my experience, there is no such thing as luck,”_ you replied lightly, signaling to a nearby trainees to open the gates to the holding cells; until the demon could transported to its proper realm.

“You know, if I could have you replaced, I would have done it months ago,” he sighed, shaking his head at the Star Wars quote and passing the demon off to one of the Masters to handle. “You’re just lucky you know a thing or two about the mystic arts.”

“You like having me around,” you teased, nudging his elbow through the portal to the New York Sanctum. “You’d get bored, admit it.”

“I admit nothing,” he shot back coolly, earning an exaggerated eye-roll from your direction.

This wasn’t anything new. The two of you went back and forth over and over, but there existed a mutual respect which sustained the partnership.

It was the reason you’d been assigned to New York and why, _truly_, Stephen hadn’t appealed to have you replaced. You two were the only people (aside from Wong) who could tolerate one another for long periods without killing each other.

“Did one of you bring back lunch?” Wong called from the library, setting aside a large leather tome and catching up with the two of you while Stephen headed for his study.

“Well, uh, _no_,” you replied with a frown, glancing to Stephen. “The demon was a little tougher than we thought and he _might_ have destroyed that deli we like.”

“We misjudged the dimension it was from,” Stephen clarified. “Luckily, _someone_ was able to take him down before he took out all of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“The _devil_ didn’t come to help?” Wong questioned, crossing his arms.

“He figured it was more of our wheel house,” you offered a half-hearted shrug, stretching into a yawn. “But speaking of lunch, I need some nutrition or I might just pass out. Who’s up for takeout?

“I need to make sure that spell wasn’t anything serious,” Stephen’s expression shifted before you or Wong could decide on a restaurant. You groaned, unwilling to wait even longer for something to wake you up.

“It wasn’t anything,” you waved him off, returning your attention to Wong, who now shared Stephen’s concerned expression. “Wong, it _literally_ disappeared when it hit my hand. I’m talking a _tiny_ curse that wasn’t even powerful enough to do any _immediate_ damage. I don’t think it’d be powerful enough to linger, and cause some kind of malicious thing down the line.”

“Good, then this shouldn’t take long,” Stephen decided, clapping his hands and transporting himself and you to the study. “We weren’t positive where his energy was coming from, I’d rather be safe.”

He stood at your side while you dropped down on a nearby stool, holding your arms up and yawning again. His hands began to glow, a wist of yellow energy wrapping itself around your torso, moving outward to your limbs and head. When it finished, it disappeared into a fine mist.

“I don’t want to be a total jerk and say ‘_I told you so’_, but sometimes I do know what I’m doing,” you chided with raised brows. “I _am_ a Master of the Mystic Arts after all.”

He frowned, seemingly unsatisfied with the result of his test.

“You don’t sense it?” he questioned, summoning a book and flipping through the pages. You recognized it vaguely as a demon guide and repositioned to the more comfortable sofa. This was going to take a while if he was pulling out the books. “I feel like something is _radiating_ from you.”

“It’s probably my dazzling personality,” you supplied, summoning your own book and scanning the pages. You found the entry on the specific demon and held it up for him to view. “Run of the mill, _basic_, destroyer of cities and hearts. It’s just an incubus that wandered through the wrong portal. Didn’t we deal with a whole number of them a few months ago in Detroit?”

“Different dimensions though… He didn’t touch you, did he?” he questioned, glancing over the edge of the book with quirked brows. You sat up, trying to recall the fight and letting out another yawn.

“I don’t remember being seduced by the inter-dimensional sex demon,” you grinned up at him, but your expression fell when you noticed he was still focused on the text.

When he didn’t reply after a few moments, you spoke again.

“Stephen, it’s probably nothing. You didn’t talk to the snakes again, did you? They’re alway making you overly paranoid.”

“I just…” his frowned to himself while he continued reading.

“-_have a bad feeling about this?_” you offered, earning an irritated grunt from the sorcerer.

With a wave of his hand, you felt yourself slam down in one of the kitchen chairs next to Wong.

“You’ve really got to stop with the pop-culture jokes,” Wong was thumbing through a pile of takeout menus, not bothering to look up. “He hates them.”

“I know,” you stood up and moved toward the cabinets, searching for a tea with caffeine. “But I don’t think he minds when I do it.”

“Why do you think that?” he asked, genuinely intrigued by your confidence.

“I _usually_ get away with it,” you mused, digging through the stashes of teas and finding none to your suiting. “Do we have anything with _caffeine_ in it? I’m about to fall over.”

“I think Strange took the last english breakfast this morning, I haven’t had time to run to the store,” he held up two menus. “Chinese or Thai?”

“What about that green Kree stuff?” you closed the cabinets, pausing to glance at the menus. “Which one has a better curry?”

“The Thai place,” Wong replied. “And we ran out a few days ago after we all stayed up trying to get the curse out of that necklace.”

“_Oh yeah_,” you frowned, rolling your head and trying to shake off the sleepiness that threatened to cloud your head. “Let’s do Thai. I’ll take something _incredibly_ spicy and a green tea or something.”

“They have coffee,” he offered, pointing to the beverages on the menu. You perked up. Coffee was a rare delicacy in the Sanctum that prided itself on its eclectic tea options from around the universe.

“Yes, a _huge_ cup, maybe two?” you thought back to Stephen. He didn’t seem tired, but you two did fight off the same demon… you caught yourself yawning again. Maybe he was fighting sleep too?

“Did he find anything?” Wong asked when you sat back down, propping your face up by your elbows and staring at the menu to decide.

“He’s being ridiculous,” you brushed the question off. “Something about sensing something radiating off of me? It’s silly. He probably needs a nap more than I do.”

Wong paused and shook his head. He fixated his focus on you for a few seconds before returning to the Thai menu.

“I don’t feel anything,” he confirmed and you threw a hand up.

“Exactly! I think _something’s_ have been switching his teas around,” you sighed under your breath and stood up. “I’ll see what Dr. Overthinker wants- be right back.”

You hoped Wong hadn’t seen you struggle to catch your footing outside of the kitchen, but glancing back, his attention was still fixed between the two menus.

A small victory, in that while you could handle Stephen’s teasing, Wong’s cool, witty remarks were absolutely terrifying. It was something about how he said things without the slightest expression-

Your vision gave a whirl, and you caught your weight with a palm against the wall. Blinking a few times, you tried to get your head straight, but the world just spun faster and you felt your legs drop from under you.

The last thing you saw was a blur of red fabric before your world faded to darkness.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep catching grammar/spelling issues in this and forget to fix it or note where they are when I go through it. I apologize! I'm trying to keep up with them. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

“_What did I say?_” Stephen grumbled, pacing through his study while Wong settled your still form on a nearby table. “I said there was something off, and everyone decided to brush it off like it was nothing. I should have been more thorough…”

He stood over you, checking your vitals and letting out a low sigh of defeat. Everything was normal. No abnormal temperatures, markings, or physical signs of distress. It was as if you’d fallen into deep sleep and refused to wake up.

“She was fine, and then passed out in the hall…?” he recited back to Wong after hearing the explanation over and over. You hadn’t been out of Stephen’s sight for very long and even then, you’d been with Wong in the kitchen.

There wasn’t anything you could have gotten into in that time frame, and you’d collapsed just outside of his study, suggesting it’d been maybe a minute or two you’d been out of Wong’s sight.

His gut kept telling him it was something to do with the demon, but he didn’t have evidence to support it. In response, his head throbbed when his skin graced yours.

“How are you not feeling that?” Stephen looked toward Wong, taking a few steps away from you and heaving a long sigh. “It’s so… bothersome.”

“More so than a constant string of terrible movie quotes?” his friend joked, and Stephen made a face.

“Those aren’t even that bad,” he commented, his fingers going to his chin while he considered your condition. “Perhaps the curse was meant for me? That’s why it isn’t causing her harm, but I can still sense it?”

“That’s reasonable enough,” Wong agreed. “I’ve heard of this happening with certain spells that link the users. Blood pacts and the such.”

“But with a demon?” Stephen questioned softly, his gaze falling back to where you slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the tension that thickened over the room.

“It’s not my place to comment on your weird relationship, but strong emotions are as natural to the mystic arts as an exploding sun,” he stood up, muttering something about going to Kamar-Taj to speak with the demon and left the room.

Stephen stood in place, emotionally drained of all reason as he lifted one of your hands, clutching it between shaking fingers and running through anything he could have missed.

You were absolutely infuriating, but not in the ways you probably thought.

You were needlessly self sacrificing, this being a prime example, and often it landed you in dangerous situations. This was stressful for Stephen, as while he respected your abilities as a hero and a Master of the Mystic Arts, there was nothing more terrifying to him than the prospect of not seeing your smile at the end of the fight.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered, giving your hand a frustrated squeeze. If you had allowed him to take the brunt of the spell, as intended, instead of jumping in the way…

He wondered if you would have reacted the same way. He mused over the thought, recalling the time he’d broken his leg during a fight with Mordo. Even after Wong had repaired the break, you refused to leave him alone for days.

By Vishnu were you stubborn…

Yet, he couldn’t imagine his life any other way. He couldn’t imagine the Sanctum without your presence. Already, it was unsettling to him. Stephen hadn’t realized how important the chime of your laugh was… until it was gone.

His stomach dropped when he tried another spell to awaken you, but to no avail.

Nothing. Not even a flinch.

How long could the curse last? Days? Months? Years?

He recalled a fairy tale he read where the princess remained frozen in time the entirety of the spells duration. Would he age and watch you remain unmoving in front of him? A reminder of his failure to protect someone he loved-?

The word caught him by surprise. His heart gave a leap but he swallowed the sensation down and released your hand, summoning the cloak and opening a portal to the Kamar-Taj library.

He needed to get out of his head, he needed to find _answers_. 

* * *

It’s been two weeks since Stephen found you outside of the study.

Two weeks of nothingness.

The demon provided no direction, even when Stephen threatened its life, the creature simply laughed at the sorcerers desperation.

They consulted other masters who knew nothing of curses that bond the victims to eternal slumber. They tried spells and amulets, potions and blood magic, with no results.

You remained as unchanged as the day you’d collapsed.

Stephen wasn’t sleeping. At least, not _willingly_. He would stay up for days at a time and then drop into a brief nap before continuing the cycle again.

He even purchased a coffee maker and placed it in the study to fuel his late night research.

A little part of him had hoped the smell would have been enough to rouse you. Normally you would sense a Americano a block away.

Wong travelled out of the Sanctum most days to consult with anyone who might have an idea of what was occurring, leaving Stephen to his thoughts and _silence_.

That was the worst part in all of this. The loss of your floating laughter, the creaks on the hardwood as you moved around the building.

He hadn’t realized the little things he missed. He would have given anything to argue whether Indiana Jones or Jurassic Park was better.

You let out a heavy breath, catching his attention. No movement. Nothing.

He threw fist down on a nearby desk, fumbling through a nearby notebook and shaking his head, at a total loss. He’d probably dug through the entire sanctum library by now. Everything was a mess.

You were definitely going to kill him when you woke up for messing up your hard work.

What would you have suggested? He needed to look at this problem in a different manner. Logic wasn’t working, but he was too sleep deprived to think of alternative actions.

“_My ally is the force, and a powerful ally it is…”_ he muttered, dropping to the chair he’d set up next to your head and sinking his face into his palms. “You wouldn’t be scared, would you? Fear leads to the dark side and all of that. At least that’s probably what you would have told me…”

Though you’d deny it, he’d seen you afraid before. You always fought it down for the task at hand. He respected your tenacity in the face of adversity. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for the ones you cared for, even if you were scared to the core.

How many times had you made the sacrifice play to ensure he could complete a mission?

You hadn’t even hesitated with the demon to step in front of him. No fear. No thought. just pure instinct to protect _him_. Was it because he was the Sorcerer Supreme?

No, he knew better. The playful grins over the rims of tea mugs and your excitement when he would figure out a complex ritual.

_Gods_, he missed the hell out of you.

He pulled his head up, watching each slow breath in the rise and fall of your chest.

Were you dreaming? There really was no telling. Your eyes never moved, so perhaps you hadn’t gone into REM, but with magic there wasn’t a way to be completely sure.

He stood dumbly at your side longer than he would have liked to admit. He’d almost forgotten the color of your eyes. Almost. The only reason he hadn’t was that they stared back at him every time he allowed himself a moment of sleep.

Stephen huffed under his breath, reminding himself to get back to work and read over a text Wong had brought back a few hours previously. In his haste, a stray hair fluttered over your features. He froze.

With a shaky hand, he gently tucked it behind your ear, his fingers tracing the edge of your jaw line. You were surprisingly warm to the touch, even if your cheeks were flushed from the curse.

A small jolt shot up his hands with the passive touches and he found himself moving closer, a magnetic pull moving him outside of his control.

_It_ happened without a conscious thought.

One moment he was gazing down at your face.

The next? He brushed a soft kiss across your lips.

Stunned by the action, he took a step back. He was frozen in place, unable to explain the phenomenon that had overcome him. Stephen Strange was not the type act on impulse.

He was just tired.

Turning to resume his research, only a few heartbeats passed before he heard a rustling over his shoulder. Assuming it was Wong returning from his travels, he paid no mind to it and continued to focus on the book in front of him.

“Stephen?” Your tone was meek and confused. He dropped his book and spun around, finding you sitting up on the table. Blankets he’d set over you, were gathered in your lap while you took in the scene. “What on Earth happened?”

The doctor had no words. He lifted your chin and pressed another kiss to you. Despite the dazed expression on your face, you reciprocated in turn, pulling him closer until you both pulled away breathing heavily.

Your eyes searched his face for explanation. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about the possibility of… this. You were just happy with a platonic relationship.

“I… _I love you,_” he finally spoke, his hands still cupped around your cheeks. Slowly a small smile spread across your face at the declaration. You couldn’t help yourself.

_“I know.”_

Instead of a sigh, he kissed you again, silencing your giggles with more pressing matters.

* * *


End file.
